


Purple Wine, Red Heart

by IcyPanther



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Galra Keith (Voltron), Gen, Hurt Keith (Voltron), Hurt/Comfort, Keith (Voltron) Angst, Keith (Voltron) Whump, Poison, Protective Coran (Voltron), Whump, Whumptober 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-30
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2021-01-13 05:51:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21239216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IcyPanther/pseuds/IcyPanther
Summary: Keith has been poisoned. Accidentally, that is, the wine only toxic to Galrans, but Coran must quickly remove him from the reception before their new allies discover there is a Galran in their midst.But the poison is not the only thing that needs treated. Keith’s heart has been hurt by the recent discovery of his heritage and while not as deadly as poison it is still a painful, raw wound.  Coran plans to heal both.





	Purple Wine, Red Heart

**Author's Note:**

> **Timeline notes:** later season two, shortly after Keith is revealed to be Galran  
**Warning notes:** none

****“Easy, easy, it’s all right, Number Four. Just keep walking. One foot in front of the other, there we go.”

“C-Coran,” and the man wasn’t sure he’d ever heard this particular human sound so… _ young. _ So _ scared. _“What’s… what’s happening?”

“You’ve been poisoned, lad.”

Number Four missed his next step and only Coran’s very firm grip around his waist and shoulders kept him upright.

“You’re going to be just fine, I promise,” Coran kept his voice light, well aware of the Loraii watching them. “Just a little reaction from your mother’s side. I heard she was quite the lightweight, hm?”

He felt Number Four tense at the inclination, his step falter for a different reason.

“Almost there,” Coran encouraged, squeezing the boy’s waist and trying to convey his support in more ways than one.

And Number Four was nothing if not stubborn and he firmly if shakily took another step towards the castle. 

As soon as Coran had tasted the elderberries in the wine they’d toasted with -- _ “To the eradication of the Galra,” the queen had proclaimed and Coran had been quietly horrified as his princess had said nothing to the declaration and been grateful when Number One had spoken up before the toast could commence, voice strong as he corrected, “To the eradication of the Galra Empire,” and Coran had not missed the way he and all the other humans had glanced (some more subtly than others) at Number Four, whose surprising heritage had come to light but quintants ago and he made a mental note to have a very firm discussion with Allura when they returned to the castle -- _he knew they were in trouble.

Elderberries were poisonous to Galra. Galra had a very unique physiology, their ability to interact with luxite chief among them, but they had very strange dietary restrictions as well. Elderberries were one of the worst and this was not Coran’s first run-in with them following his ten thousand year slumber as aliens all across the universe had incorporated the fruit into their dishes in a silent protest to the Galra rule. 

Coran had hoped the human half would spare Number Four as he had no doubts at this stage and time in the universe that revealing one of their Paladins was part Galran would end at best with a lost alliance and at worst in violence and there was little he could do without causing immediate suspicion if he stopped him from drinking. He’d thought maybe his hopes had held out as Number Four displayed no symptoms of illness through the rest of dinner but when they’d stood up to engage in dance (or, as Coran knew of some of the humans, try to hide by the dessert table and avoid the pastime at all costs) he had swayed. Perhaps not noticeable by most but Coran had been watching like a hawk.

He’d hurried over, only Number One also seeming to notice anything was amiss as he had remained at the table, one hand on Number Four’s shoulder and talking quietly. 

Charcoal eyes had met Coran’s with a quiet, “_Something’s wrong,” _to which Number Four had immediately protested that he was fine even as this close he was looking a bit wan and his pupils were pinpricks. 

Coran had not wanted to raise alarm or suspicion so he’d loudly made an announcement (that was clearly meant to be private) that he’d seen Number Four drinking several glasses of spirits -- many options available upon the table although all of the humans save Number One had been told not to drink anything other than the toast -- and that had been a foolish decision. Coran hated to throw the poor boy to the waverloaves, but best the Loraii think his sudden symptoms were the result of the folly of youth. 

Number Four had looked slightly confused but when Number One had chimed in after catching Coran’s eye and quick on the uptake, lightly scolding him in that he understood Keith’s excitement but he had to make better decisions, it had morphed to actual hurt that made something twist in Coran’s chest and Number One had looked stricken.

But even while not feeling well and off kilter Number Four was still sharp and he seemed to realize that something else had to be going on so even though he couldn’t quite swallow away the hurt expression he had offered no protest as Coran steered him out.

And while that glimmer of betrayal had vanished once Coran had informed him he’d been poisoned, fear was starting a steady trickle as the symptoms worsened and his steps became more and more unsteady.

“Coran,” he whispered again. His eyes were half-closed.

“Almost there, my boy,” Coran murmured. “Just a few more steps.”

Number Four managed to do so, swayed as they entered the castle and the door slid shut behind them, cutting off prying eyes.

And then his legs gave out.

Coran was ready though and turned the falling motion into a scoop and had the boy in his arms a tick later.

Pink immediately blossomed on pale cheeks that had nothing to do with the poison. “Coran,” he wiggled ever so but even that movement was muted for the normally fiery human, and he went nowhere.

“Hush now,” Coran gave him a light squeeze. “Just rest, lad. I promise, it will be all right.”

It spoke to how ill Number Four was feeling that he offered no further protest, merely slumping in Coran’s arms with a soft groan. 

They arrived at the infirmary not even two dobashes later and Coran gently deposited the boy on one of the beds and hurried over to the small walk-in cooler where he kept this particular antidote. It was the only positive thing about elderberry poisoning; it was easy to treat so long as caught in time. 

Unfortunately the effects from the ordeal could linger for several quintants and even with the half-human biology Coran would put Number Four as being out of commission for at least a couple days.

When he returned, vigorously shaking the bottle to activate the ingredients inside, Number Four had curled up on the bed, arms wrapped about his stomach, and was biting his lip.

His skin was also turning lavender. Coran silently sent thanks to Alaraan that particular symptom hadn’t shown itself in public.

“Number Four,” he called softly. 

A soft groan answered.

“Keith,” the boy’s name rolled pleasantly off his tongue and that garnered a set of half-lidded pinpricked purple eyes opening. “I have the antidote here, my boy. I need you to drink all of it, all right? I’ll help you sit up now so you don’t choke.”

Keith sat up easily enough with Coran’s help but swayed once there, tipping back against Coran’s arm. 

“Ready?” Coran tapped the bottle lightly against Keith’s mouth. “It’s as delicious as my Paladin Lunch Surprise.”

That brought out the ghost of a smile. 

It was hidden behind the bottle a second later but there was no mistaking the scrunching of eyebrows or the way the purple skin turned white on the knuckles as he gripped at the bed linens. 

He still drained the antidote in one go, gasping and coughing and tears beading in his eyes as Coran lifted the empty bottle away.

“I know,” Coran said gently, helping him to lie back down. “It was not half as good as my cooking.” He rubbed a hand on the boy’s raised shoulder, having curled up as soon as he was able. 

Keith stiffened but before Coran could pull away -- this human had always been a bit less inclined for touch he’d observed -- he leaned into it, shoulders drooping and eyelashes fluttering.

Coran smiled and continued the gentle circles.

“You will still feel the effects for a while,” Coran said softly. “If it gets worse though you must tell me. The recovery will take a few days, but we’ll make sure you’re as comfortable as possible. Is there anything I can get for you now? Perhaps a change of clothes?” as while the uniform the Paladins had dressed in weren’t hard-edged like their armor they were still formal and stiff. 

“Is…” the word was mumbled, the fatigue fully setting in now. “Is Shiro…?”

Ah. 

Coran gave the shoulder a squeeze. “You know the answer to that,” was his response, tone gentle but firm. There had been enough misunderstandings and hurt feelings of late from the revelation of Keith’s heritage, he would not allow this new fear to fester at all.

“Mmm,” Keith hummed and his lips turned up into a small, soft smile that revealed a tiny fang. It made Coran’s own smile grow. 

“Rest easy, my boy,” he murmured. “We will take care of you.”

The smile faded.

He didn’t have to voice it.

“Even Allura,” Coran assured. 

He would make sure of it.

“You are our Red Paladin, Keith," he said softly. "That will never change."

Coran watched as all of the tension seemed to drain right out of the boy again.

“Thank you,” came a barely audible whisper.

“Think nothing of it, dear boy,” Coran gave his shoulder another squeeze. “Rest now. I and Number One will be here when you wake.”

His lips curved back into a smile and his breaths deepened a moment later.

And Coran kept a silent, steady vigil with the promise that no one, his dear princess or otherwise, would ever hurt this boy again. 

**Author's Note:**

> Last Whumptober prompt. After killing Coran earlier in the month I thought he deserved a nicer end this go around ♥ Opted to pull it for its own fic as not enough Coran love in this world and the gorgeous man deserves a chance to shine.
> 
> If you enjoyed the fic, please please do leave a comment below detailing what you liked about it (the small details make my day!) Emotional support and validation is super important and appreciated and your comments mean the world. **_Please_ don’t just read and run! Leave a comment! Thank you!**


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